


Meadowstar Concepts

by kesomon



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU: Canon divergence, Body Swap, Firestorm Bond, Friendly Fire, Frostbite, Gen, Ice, Meta!Len, Self-Harm Injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: A collection of fills for various plot ideas from an easily distracted mind. Each chapter will feature one or more plot ideas, listed in the notes, and a ficlet fill of at least 100 words. All fills will be teen and under; no mature themes within.All fills are open for adoption and expansion, feel free to use and link back.





	1. Meta!Len, AU LoT "Left Behind"

**Author's Note:**

> Since the tag list will likely grow very large and varied, I will try to summarize the topic in the chapter titles, including ratings, and will list the applicable tags for that chapter in the notes.
> 
> All items I post in this collection are open for adoption. If you feel inspired to write or expand a fill I've posted, feel free! Just please let me know! I'd love to read it all.
> 
> NOTE: Revised and reposting after mod take-down; posting straight-up prompts is against Ao3 TOS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot Idea  
> What if Len’s meta powers manifested during S1’s ‘Left Behind’? Freezing his own arm off doesn’t work quite as planned. (or, Time Radiation plus Gun Radiation plus residual Dark Matter Explosion Radiation on said Gun being constantly in Len’s presence for years now had to awaken something - and maybe Len hasn’t felt the cold of his gun for a while now, and just didn't realise what it meant. It takes the extreme cold of that blast to awaken his latent meta powers properly, rather than remain in passive activity.)
> 
> Applied Tags: Self-Harm, Injury, Meta!Len, Frostbite, Ice, AU: Canon Divergence.

Mick - _Kronos_ _-_ leaves, the threat on Lisa’s life left to coil in Leonard’s gut like serpent’s venom. The moment he can no longer hear boots echoing on metal, he renews his escape attempts with fervor.

Step one: take stock of his situation. The cuffs are too tight to slip, even if he breaks his thumbs; enough of Mick Rory existed to remember his partner’s tricks. Leonard casts his eyes about, mind ticking away, tugs on the cuffs.

The railing gives, just slightly, under the strain.

Leonard is quick to jump on the opportunity, and throws all his weight into pulling. The railing comes loose, and Leonard is….not free. But more mobile than he was, and he’ll take it. He hauls himself to his feet, inching his way along the corridor. Kronos’ ship seems identical to the Waverider; if luck is on his side, then the armory should be about…

He stops, out of railing, but also in reach of the weapon’s rack.

 _There_.

The Cold Gun comes free with a kick of his toe, clattering to the deck. A bit more maneuvering, and it’s in his hands, radiating its signature cold that has become almost comforting to the thief in the short time he’s wielded it. His un-gloved fingers are already slightly numb.

There’s no time to feel remorse over what he’s about to do. It’s logic, pure and simple. He left Mick behind, and now faces the consequences of his folly. Now Mick is walking into the firing line of the League and of the Legends, and Leonard knows he has to stop it.

He can’t freeze the cuffs alone, doesn’t have that kind of precision.

Desperate times. Desperate measures.

He aims. Braces for the chill. Pulls the trigger.

It’s a hundredfold times worse than simply holding the gun.

Frost coats his flesh, bone-deep, freezing fast but _not fast enough_. Leonard screams with the white-hot-cold fire of nerve endings dying. Is certain that he blacks out, just for a second, before his mind can recover. He blinks wetness from his vision, sickness already roiling in his stomach as he chances to look at the dead, useless hunk of ice at the end of his arm.

Blue-blackened fingers…flex.

Nausea is subsumed by confusion.

The numbness is fading, with every twitch, the frost cracking and falling away like a shell. The flesh below is morphing, paling from black to blue to healthy pink.

The cuffs remain, brittle from the flash freeze, but Leonard himself is whole. He stares at this miracle, lost expression slowly dawning into realization. Determination. Control.

Leonard curls the fingers of his free hand over ice-rimed metal. He can feel the cold beneath his skin, a comfort despite this dichotomy, polar opposite to the warmth of the summer sun. He pushes that cold outward. Frost returns to his fingertips, but he doesn't burn this time. It's almost refreshing, like threading his hands through cool silk.

The metal around his wrists cracks and groans.

The cuffs disintegrate like talcum powder beneath his touch.

Leonard shakes off the frost and stands.

The game has changed.


	2. Legends/Stargate, Firestorm zatted, swaps body control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a discussion with icarus_chained in the comments section of [Whosoever Shall Offend](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7282429) (GO READ MUST READ MOST EXCELLENT), regarding the Firestorm body/mind division of control during fusing for Martin, Ronnie, and/or Jax. ([you can read the convo here](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/66879865))
> 
>  **Plot Idea**  
>  What sort of situation would result in Jax's consciousness being knocked out, forcing Martin to either inhabit an unconscious body, or take control of the body himself? Maybe Stargate SG-1's Zat weapons!  
> The Legends land on a planet. There is a stargate here! Through Classic Hero Team Meetup Trope #56, there are misunderstandings, maybe a fight, and someone on the SG team shoots Jax once with a zat gun. (once stuns, twice kills, three shots disintegrates.) SG Team then witnesses the following:
> 
> Applied Tags: Martin Stein & Jefferson "Jax" Jackson, Firestorm Bond, Body Swap, Friendly Fire

The young man with the flaming hair stumbled with a cry, almost to a knee, as the energy of the zat blast crackled over his limbs. The flames licking his hands extinguished, and the crown of fire flickered and died down by half, burning a cooler red. But he didn't go down. He blinked white eyes, looking confused and shocked. Took a moment to pat his limbs and chest, as if his body were entirely new to him.

"Jefferson?" He called, in a far different accent than the SG team had heard him use before, worried, and then sharper, repeated, "Jefferson!" White eyes landed on Jack, who still held the zat gun in ready position. "You! What have you done?"

"What?" Jack demanded, but the young man was already ignoring him, pacing a tight circle as the flames leaped back to life around his fingers.

"I don't understand, this has never happened before, this is - Jefferson!" He pulled up short, rigid in posture, and then sighed in heartfelt relief. "Oh thank god. Are you all right?" Cocked his head slightly, as if listening to an unheard voice, and then looked worried. "Ah. Yes, yes of course. Only I think we'll have to separate first. I'm not sure how to relinquish control from this position; I wasn't able to with Ronald." He paused, and then added, "No, I don't think they're a threat. I'm sure this can be cleared up with a bit of sensible conversation."

He eyed the SG team for a moment. "You there. With that...contraption. Do you promise not to shoot us again?"

Us? Jack hesitated, but the flaming man had every opportunity to fire back on them after the zat blast had failed to stun him, and with a grimace the leader of SG-1 nodded and folded the weapon. "Sure."

"Satisfied?" the flaming man said to thin air, and then nodded. To the team's collective confusion, he shut his eyes. There was a flare of fire, swirling in impossible physics and blinding light, and when it faded...the fire-man had become two, normal men: one the young black man, the other much older and white, with grey hair and glasses, both dressed in clothing rather recognisably from Earth.

The younger man patted himself down, much as he had while on fire, only with a great deal more relief, and blew out a forceful sigh. "That's better. Man, that was freaky." He had the first accent the team had heard.

"I'd have to agree," the older man said in the second accent with a nod, looking shaken. "Though it may be worth experimenting with switching control, in case of future events."

"Didn't like being in the driver's seat, Grey?" The kid smirked.

The older man smiled slightly with distaste. "I daresay once was enough for me, Jefferson. Now," and he turned a gimlet eye on Jack. "Lets have that discussion."


End file.
